By Haylynn Conrad, Opinion Column
If you’ve ever attended a Malibu Planning Commission meeting, you’ve heard it, “This project doesn’t meet the neighborhood character.” It’s a phrase tossed around like legal scripture, yet no one — not residents, not developers, noteven city staff — seems able to define exactly what it means. At the last meeting, when I asked, “What exactly is neighborhood character?” I was told, “You know it when you see it.” hmmmmm….
That’s a problem.
“Neighborhood character” is one of the most invoked but least defined concepts in Malibu’s planning process. It shows up in appeals, in letters to the city, in endless rounds of public comment. One person says a home violates it because it’s too tall. Another says it’s because it’s too spread out, and another says it’s too clustered. Someone else insists it’s about landscaping, square footage, or terraces.
What results is a frustrating cycle of subjective opinion masquerading as policy — and an unpredictable experience for residents, Council, and applicants alike.
Part of the confusion comes from a lack of distinction between neighborhood standards and neighborhood character.
Standards are measurable: height limits, setbacks.
Character is qualitative, the look, feel, and rhythm of a neighborhood. A home can meet every code and still feel totally out of place.
The irony is, we all care about neighborhood character. We moved to Malibu because of it. We fight to protect it. But if we can’t define it clearly, we risk turning it into a catch-all weapon — used arbitrarily, inconsistently, and sometimes unfairly.
This isn’t just a philosophical debate — it’s rooted in Malibu’s very identity. Our city’s Mission Statement emphasizes preserving the natural environment and supporting a safe, sustainable residential community.
The General Plan goes further, stating the need to maintain Malibu’s “rural character” and ensure development reflects our “unique character as a rural residential community set in a natural environment.” In other words, we already say we care about character —we just haven’t said clearly what that means. Without clarity, we risk undermining the very values our city was founded to protect.
In a recent appeal, it became painfully clear how elusive and slippery this concept really is. I was deeply disappointed by how neighbors were treating each other. If this had been about the character of our neighbors, the project would’ve failed on both sides. The highly emotional tone of the conflict reflected a larger breakdown — not just in civility, but in the structure of the process itself.
Maybe “neighborhood character” means respecting the community and checking with neighbors at the very beginning of the application process — especially when variances are involved.
Maybe it means putting up story poles sooner, inviting neighbors into the process earlier, and getting it in writing — not just once public opposition has already boiled over into an expensive and bitter battle.
I’ve seen projects delayed, appealed, or denied for vague aesthetic reasons, even when they meet the technical requirements. I’ve also seen neighbors use “neighborhood character” as a stand-in for discomfort with change—whether that means bigger homes, different styles, or just a Malibu they no longer recognize. This is the future of our city with the fire rebuilds. This is one of my fears for the next four years.
To make matters more complicated, neighborhood character varies from neighborhood to neighborhood. What fits on Murphy Way may feel totally wrong in Big Rock. That’s not a flaw — it’s a reflection of Malibu’s unique geography, lot size, and diversity of design. But our policies don’t reflect that nuance. Instead, they treat character like a one-size-fits-all judgment call.
Most importantly, residents must help define it. Their voices are crucial. What do you see as the defining qualities of your neighborhood? What do you want to protect? What makes your street or canyon feel like home? Should character be defined neighborhood by neighborhood?
We also need to define what we mean by “rural.” That word appears in our foundational documents, too, but ask five people what rural means, and you’ll get five different answers. Does it mean no sidewalks? Low density? Agricultural zoning? A particular aesthetic? Street lights? Horses and split rail fencing? If we can’t agree on what these terms mean, maybe we shouldn’t rely on them to make land use decisions.
Without clearer definitions and community input, the process becomes reactive and inconsistent. It erodes public trust. People stop believing the system is fair. And when planning decisions are based more on the volume of opposition than on shared principles, everyone loses.
Let’s define “neighborhood character” before it defines us—unfairly, unpredictably, and in ways we never intended.
Send me your thoughts at Hconrad@malibucity.org and/or come speak at public comment.
The next Malibu City Council meeting will be on Monday, June 9.